Living in Shadows
by newtee
Summary: Wally always tries, but he never succeeds. Everything just ends up exploding in his face... he'll never be as good as the Flash. Wally-centric, one-shot.


Everyone always assumes that it's hard for Dick to live in the shadow of Batman. People who know their identities (and most of the ones that don't) know how demanding Bruce can be as a leader and as a father, and know that he is willing to sacrifice so much (some would even say _too_ much) to get what he needs, what he craves- vengeance.

After all, Dick is a good kid. He's intelligent like Bruce, sure, and some really bad, traumatic stuff had happened to him, but he's a good person. He still laughs and jokes and has more on his mind than how to complete _the mission_; he still can focus on more than crime and retribution. And while Bruce is proud of Dick for that, while he always thinks of Dick as his "best soldier" and his good son, it's only a matter of time before Dick's ideas or Dick's friends or Dick's life get in the way of the mission, and then there will be a parting of ways.

Inevitable.

Yep, everyone says, it must be hard for someone like Dick Grayson to try and be something he is not, to try and live up to Bruce Wayne.

But no one ever really thinks about how difficult it must be for Wallace West to live up to Barry Allen.

Because really, Barry is such a nice person. He's funny, always willing to lend a hand, steadfast, and moral. He can't, at all, be a bad mentor- in fact, a young hero would be more than happy to have someone like Barry teaching them how to save the world.

Yeah. It's great, trying to live up to one of the most respected, nicest, and perfect people in the universe (not that Wally knows that Barry is one of the most perfect people in the known universe, but one can assume that this is true).

Wally closes his eyes, concentrating on his body, feeling every limb and hair begin to vibrate in unison. He can almost feel his molecules moving as he increases his speed and lifts his arm up, feeling the familiar tingling as his molecules pass through ones that are not his own.

It's not that Wally doesn't try. He really does try to be the best that he can, but he knows (and others can see, everyone can see) that his best isn't Barry. His best isn't even Barry on an off day.

He opens one eye experimentally the second it's over with, holding his breath as he waits to see if- _BOOM._ He sighs as he wipes off the blood that dribbles down his chin from his nose. Of course the cardboard would explode, why wouldn't it explode? (He had chosen the cardboard specifically because he thought that there was no way it would blow up in his face just like everything else. It was so small, it's makeup nothing impressive, he shouldn't have any trouble and yet it exploded.) Everything he tries to vibrate through explodes.

Not like uncle Barry. Barry can just concentrate and run through something, coming out on the other side unperturbed. And the object, well, the object would be intact. As if nothing had happened to it. Without a nosebleed, without the explosion, without the problems. It's just another one of the things on the long, so very long, list that Barry was and Wally wasn't, that Barry could and Wally couldn't.

It's not exactly easy to live in his shadow, either. uncle Barry may not be the one who demands the absolute best out of his protégé, may not look down upon him or expect perfection, but Wally knows that others do.

Wally tries again with another piece of cardboard- this one is a refrigerator box that he took out of a junk yard earlier today. He breathes in, deep, and exhales, increasing his speed, faster and faster, until he becomes impossible to see. He moves forward, concentrating on the box, letting the tingling sensation pass through his body as he passes through it.

The constant pressure to live up to his uncle is nearly unbearable, but ever present. He can feel it as he runs, just a little behind the Flash, never able to catch up. He can feel it when he fights a Rogue on his own and needs help. He can feel it when he is with the team and just didn't get there in time, or when he watches his uncle save the day. He can feel it when he is at home and uncle Barry is helping aunt Iris clean or cook or do everything, and his parents want the same. He can hear it in his mother's voice when she chides him about doing his homework, can see it in Black Canary's eyes as he makes another joke or tries to flirt with M'gann, can read it in Batman's body language as Wally is told, again, how a mistake, one that the _Flash_ never would have made, had cost the team valuable time.

The sound of the explosion reaches his ears before he can open his eyes, and Wally turns back to look at the smoking mass, his head tilted slightly upward to try and stem off the bleeding from his nose.

He failed. _Again._

See, Dick is good enough to go on without Batman. To become a hero in his own right- to break out of the long, black shadow. Wally knows that. Wally can sense that his friend- his best friend- is good enough to gain the respect of the world without having to be just like Bruce.

Wally isn't.

Wally isn't a saint.

Wally isn't good enough to go off on his own and build up a reputation. Wally isn't good enough to take on the legacy of the Flash (even though he knows that one day, he will have to) and have people respect him and value him without constantly comparing him to Barry. Wally can never leave the shadow of the Fastest Man Alive, no matter what he does.

Wally isn't like Dick. Wally isn't like Barry.

Wally is Wally- too jokey, distracted, flawed. Too little faith in the world around him; can't trust like Barry can, can't shoulder everything like Barry can. Wally isn't as nice or as genuine or as morally upright as Barry. Despite how hard he tries, he just keeps failing.

Wally can never be his uncle.

Wally can never be perfect.

But, he knows as he readies the next piece of cardboard, he can never stop trying.


End file.
